


Collision Theory

by to_kill_a_mockingbird



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Ice Cream, Muffins, Non-Canon Relationship, Relationship(s), Science, explosive pathogens, jemma needs to open her eyes goddammit, skye is the best matchmaker in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:03:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/to_kill_a_mockingbird/pseuds/to_kill_a_mockingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi Morse could never be in love with Jemma Simmons, or so Jemma tells herself.  Or, at least, until a widely accepted scientific theory states otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collision Theory

“Why the bloody hell is it so hot in here?” Jemma swore as she fanned herself with lab papers. She knew that the engineers were working on the heaters, but did they have to choose _today_ to test how hot they could get?

The lab swarmed with techs that particularly muggy day. The pressure was on: they had less than six hours to concoct an antidote to the explosive pathogen Skye had contracted whilst on mission, preferably one that worked _without _blowing her and the rest of the base to smithereens.__

Jemma understood the urgency, but with everyone frazzled and overheated, well, tempers were bound to run high.

Sighing amidst the clinks and mechanical noises, Jemma grabbed her vial, sidestepped a chemist with a beaker and irritated frown, and promptly smacked into a tall, muscular, blonde wall.

“OOMPH!” Jemma watched horrified as, in slow motion, her rear propelled downwards while the vial of potential antidote flew upwards. She knew she’d be too late but she reached for it instinctively, her stomach twanging as hard as her bum as she saw the vial neatly deposit its contents into the small tub held in the hands of Bobbi Morse.

Bobbi looked down in shock. “Jemma? You okay?” she asked, pushing the tub onto a lab table (splashing a mass spectrometer in the process) before helping the scientist to her feet. 

No, she wasn’t, Jemma wanted to retort angrily, but it had nothing to do with her stinging nose and rear and had everything to do with the vial of near-perfect antidote now mixed with whatever Bobbi was holding in the container.

“I’m fi-” she started to say, but caught a glimpse of the reading on the mass spec. _What? ___

The particles on the mass spec... Jemma would never have thought of the combination, but if she was right, then the mixture of her and Bobbi’s solutions just _might _have created the perfect antidote.__

Jemma grinned at Bobbi, impulsively pulling her head down and smacking her on the lips. “You’re a genius” was all she said before grabbing the tub and running to the quarantine area, leaving a bewildered Bobbi staring after.

 

Two weeks later, Jemma sat in the rec room, nursing a cup of hot tea to warm her icy hands.

The door banged open. “Bobeemosh’s gottuh hotsfochew” was the only warning Jemma got before Skye plunked down next to her on the couch.

“What?” Jemma asked, wincing. Hot tea was, well, hot, and her cold hands did not react well to the abrupt defrosting.

“I _said _,” said Skye, swallowing her mouthful of muffin, “that Bobbi Morse’s got the hots for you.” She inspected the muffin carefully before going in for another bite.__

Jemma stiffened. “Um, _no _,” she said, blushing. “You must be mistaken.”__

“I,” Skye replied, mouth half full, “am _never _mistaken. At least, not about these things.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Besides, you were totally checking out her ass last time she was training with Mack.”__

Jemma’s blush deepened. “I was _not _,” she protested, stuttering. “I was only there to o-observe her fighting, obviously, and she’s so well, well formed a-and symmetrical?”__

Skye smirked. “Back me up, Fitz,” she called across the room to the Scot lounging on the other couch, playing video games.

“Seconded,” came the reply.

“See? I am never wrong.” Satisfied, Skye popped the rest of the muffin into her mouth and promptly choked.

“Fine. Assuming that I like her, how do you know that she likes _me _?” Jemma asked, thumping Skye on the back.__

“Collision theory.” Fitz tossed away the game controller and turned to face Jemma.

“What?” Even the watery-eyed Skye was mystified by his statement.

“The collision theory. A reaction will occur only if molecules collide at a significant force, with likelihood of a reaction increasing with a higher temperature, pressure, and higher concentration.” Fitz’s eyes twinkled. “And Jemma, your reaction happened with all four.”

Jemma crossed her arms, placing the mug of tea on a side table. “Explain.”

“Well, okay,” said Fitz. “It was approximately 40 degrees Centigrade (100 Fahrenheit, Skye) in the room.”

“High temperature,” nodded Skye, holding up a finger.

“There were about thirty lab techs in there with you-”

“High concentration.” A second finger joined the first.

“-and you all were under a _lot _of pressure to make sure that Skye didn’t blow up the base-”__

“Not entirely my fault, but okay.” She held up a third.

“And lastly, you ran into Bobbi so hard that you left a Jemma-shaped bruise on her shoulder.” Fitz grinned, satisfied. “And, why, Fitz, do you know this, you ask?” he said in that horrible imitation of her voice. “She came to me to fix it.”

Skye held up four fingers. “Four for four.”

Jemma remained unconvinced. “Well, that’s not the law,” she said obstinately. “A reaction does not _necessarily _have to occur under those circumstances. And it didn’t. There was no flare of... of chemistry.” Her stomach twinged at the lie, but Jemma rationalized that it was a partial truth. She didn’t know that _Bobbi _had felt anything.____

Fitz snorted. “I would argue that the kiss was more than enough of a reaction.”

Oh, right. That.

Skye accidentally spat out a bit of muffin. “ _What? _Jemma Simmons, you _kissed _Bobbi Morse? And you didn’t tell me?!?”____

Jemma wrinkled her nose, pulling soggy muffin out of her hair. “It was a heat of the moment thing,” she admitted. “You’d’ve done it too.”

Skye stared at her, mouth still open. “Um, no. No, I would _not _have.”__

Jemma blushed, looking at Fitz for support. He held up his hands.

“Nope. Just you.”

Huh. She had just assumed that everyone was that attracted to Bobbi Morse. After all, didn’t everyone want to hold her, touch their lips to hers, feel her fingers up their-

Jemma grinned, settling back into the couch and picking up her tea. “Well, problem. We don’t know that she likes me back.”

Skye sniggered, rolling her eyes. “Mmmhmmm. _We _.”__

“What? There’s no evidence to the contrary.”

Skye looked at Fitz, who smirked right back. “I told you,” he said. “She’s impossible. Wouldn’t notice love if it danced in front of her, stark naked and smacking her with her own copy of _Gray’s Anatomy _.”__

“That is not true,” Jemma objected, lips parted in protest. “I mean... Milton.”

Fitz rolled his eyes.

“All right, not Milton,” Jemma admitted, lips twitching. “But...”

Skye sighed. “Okay, okay. You’re a love master and you know it.”

“Thanks,” said Jemma, taken aback, but Skye wasn’t done.

“So it shouldn’t be too hard to prove it.” Raising her voice, Skye yelled, “Hey, Bobbi! Simmons wants to ask you something!”

Jemma’s heart rate doubled as a tall, lean figure leaned on the doorway. “Hmmm?” Bobbi asked in a deep, gorgeous voice.

“I- erm, well-” Jemma stammered, unable to get her sentence out. Damn Skye. Damn her to the deepest pits of hell.

“Yeah?” Bobbi walked into the room, licking a spoon covered in ice cream. A drop fell on her long, shorts-covered legs and Jemma’s breath grew unsteady, watching those golden fingers scoop it up and bring it to a vanilla-covered mouth.

“Oh, shoot! I just remembered that Fitz and I have to train with Mack!” Skye jumped up, heading out the door. “Fitz!”

“Yeah. Right. Training.” Fitz followed Skye, winking at Jemma on his way out.

Oh, she could kill them both right now.

But then Bobbi folded herself into the space on the couch that Skye recently vacated. “You know,” she said, licking another spoon of ice cream, “you’ve barely spoken three words to me after our escape from Hydra.” She tilted her head. “Well, and that kiss two weeks ago. That was something.”

Jemma squeaked. “Erm. Sorry?”

Bobbi laughed quietly, smiling at the scientist. “Don’t be. I liked it.’

No bloody way. Skye was right.

“In fact, I’d like you to do it again, if you don’t mind.” Oh, Skye was so right, and Jemma was so wrong.

Jemma leaned in, pressing her lips softly to the sticky mess on Bobbi’s. She poked out her tongue, licking the ice cream off of Bobbi’s lower lip.

Hmmm. Vanilla ice cream wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.

Outside, Skye and Fitz cheered in triumph, but Jemma was barely aware of the fact as she leaned in for more, wrapping her arms around Bobbi’s beautiful blonde head and neck. Bobbi hooked Jemma’s legs around her waist, pulling her in closer.

...Maybe that Collision Theory had something going for it after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to the scientists out there cringing at my attempts to loop the Collision Theory into the storyline. There's a reason I prefer writing over Chemistry :)
> 
> Also, shout out to a lovely lady out there for the prompt of writing a story with a chemistry concept (since we both know that writing is oh so much more productive than studying for the Chem final). And since I'm a shameless Simmorse shipper... well...   
> But seriously, I welcome all the prompts out there, for this ship and all others.


End file.
